


Broken Heart

by tiedyeflag



Category: The Property of Hate
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiedyeflag/pseuds/tiedyeflag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the mistress of The House of Paint, Madras perceived herself to be safe from harm’s way. But such is not the case. In the span of a single sleepless night, Madras’s life takes a sudden, deadly turn for the worst. Even worse, RGB and his companions are present to witness it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Heart

**** The high pitched shriek of the tea kettle filled the kitchen as impatient steam escaped through the spout. A moment later, an elegant, pink-manicured hand stopped the strident cry by turning down the heat of the stove. Madras put on a magenta oven mitt, grabbed the handle, and poured its contents into a teal mug. Steaming hot water flowed out, soaking into the herbal green tea bag.

Once the mug was full, she placed the kettle back down and cupped her hands around her tea. She carried it to a wooden dining table and sat down, gently blowing over her nighttime beverage. As she waited for it to steep, she listened to the hourglass-grandfather clock hybrid hanging on the wall behind her. The clock chimed timidly twelve times, as if afraid of the midnight darkness. Or of disturbing the insomniac cyclops.

Madras stared into space, half irritated and half asleep. One minute she was having sweet (...and slightly sinful) dreams of RGB and herself, and the next accidentally falling out of bed. After cursing gravity, she crawled back into bed, but found sleep eluding her, as if scornful of her fantasies. Well, nothing a cup of tea couldn’t fix.

Or so she hoped. Even as the lazy steam filled her face, and the hypnotic rhythm of the clock reached her ears, sleep still ignored her. Only drowsy at best.

But her senses were dulled enough to not notice the dark, smoky shadow lingering just behind the pantry door, directly next to a recently opened and closed window big enough for a grown man to fit through. A single finger twitched restlessly, begging to tap against the wall in impatience. But making a sound was forbidden, lest the figure be discovered. No, it was lying in wait for its chance... _ her _ chance…

_ CRASH!!! _

The cyclops perked up immediately at the sound of breaking glass. Her eye grew wide and she turned her head in the direction of the hallway leading away from the kitchen. Cautiously slipping out of her seat, she crept closer to the hall and tip toed away towards the source of the sound.

Once she was past the doorway, the shadow swept past the pantry door towards the table. The cup of hot tea sat perfectly still, ready for consumption. 

Not ready in  _ her _ opinion, however.

A hand reached out over the mug, and an object resembling a salt shaker materialized in the palm. Spookily slender fingers curled around it, and held it upside down. She gently shook out a dark red powder that bubbled in Madras’s tea. After a few fizzes the mystery substance dissolved completely, making the tea looked as undisturbed as before.

The figure then heard footsteps grow closer to the kitchen. Without hesitation, she slid back into the pantry, blending in with the shadows. Meanwhile Madras dragged her feet as she reentered the kitchen.

“As much as I enjoy the company of Lusts, I do not want them breaking into my home…” Madras muttered under her breath. She yawned while remembering how she firmly tossed the red scaled snake out the broken window-she was too tired to bother questioning how a limbless emotion broke through it. Her dreams from earlier must have attracted it, and that was all the reasoning she needed.

The cyclops beauty stretched her arms before plopping into her chair. She curled her fingers around her mug, now very warm. After blowing over it, she pressed the ceramic to her lips and tilted her cup back. Earthly tasting liquid flowed past her lips and to the back of her throat. She drank her tea in a slow, steady swig, not stopping until nothing but air remained in her mug.

“Ah…” Madras sighed, placing her mug down. She sat in pensive silence for a few minutes before standing up, walked to the kitchen counter, and placed her mug in her sink.

And froze.

She felt tired...but not sleepy. A bit groggy, but the sick kind of groggy.

Madras closed her eye and massaged her temples, feeling sluggish; was she coming down with a cold…? When she lifted the curtain of her eyelid, she found herself staring straight into her empty mug. All that remained was some tea residue at the bottom.

But this time the residue looked darker than normal.

Raising an eyebrow, she brought the cup closer to her face for inspection. She reached her finger towards it, but stopped just before making contact. The woman curled her finger back, suspicious. Her hand rummaged through a nearby cabinet and pulled out a toothpick dispenser. Madras plucked one out and prodded the thin stick into the questionable residue.

The cyclops rubbed the tea remains on the tip, watching it dye the wood bright red. Even more alarming, when she pulled the toothpick back out, she saw the substance melt the wood with a faint hiss.

“W...what…?”

_ Click! _

Madras immediately spun around at the sound of her unlocking window, but by then she was too late. She only caught a glance of black smoke slipping effortlessly outside, leaving a chilling wind behind. Her eye widened as she heard a feminine chuckle and saw the window slam shut.

It wasn’t until she heard the sound of dripping water that she snapped out of her horrified trance. Madras whipped her head down to see a hole steadily growing in the bottom of her favorite mug. Shocked, she dropped it, letting it shatter on the cold tile floor. Some of the residue still ate at the pieces of ceramic or at the ground with low sizzles. 

The dream merchant took a step away from the mess when her throat grew tight, choking her. She held her stomach with one hand and covered her mouth with the other. After a brief dry-heave, she bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. The rest of her night was not filled with sleep, like she had planned, but instead with sweat and spitting up the internal damage.

* * *

 

“Hah, I beat ya’!” A girl with short chestnut hair proclaimed, standing at the top of the stairway leading to The House of Paint. Meanwhile, a snazzily dressed man with a TV head slowly walked up the remaining steps, panting.

“ _ Huff _ ... _ huff _ ...y...yes, Hero...I can..see that…” RGB managed between breaths. Once he reached the final step, he tripped to the door, leaning against it. “Just...let me cah...catch my breath…”

“So you need air…?” Hero asked. 

“Needair?” A green sentient sock puppet cheeped out of the back of her hoodie.

“Do  _ you _ need air, Assok?” The girl asked, patting Assok on the head with her finger.

“Air’sok! Needu!”

While Hero and Assok played their little talking game, RGB knocked his knuckles against the door.

...nothing came.

RGB’s mouth made a confused arc as he knocked again. Once again, nothing.

“...Somethin’ wrong?” Hero asked.

“I’m honestly not sure.” The monster tugged at his bowtie before knocking with more force. “Madras? Are you home?”

…

“Hello? Madras?”

…

“... _ Anyone home? _ ”

By this point Assok jumped from Hero’s head to RGB’s shoulder. He took a deep breath, filling his fabric chest with air…

“...oh no Hero  _ cover your ear-! _ ”

“ _ NEEDAIRMADRAS’EROAREGEEBEEWRONG’OME _ -” The not-so-harmless sock puppet babbled at top volume. Hero covered her ears while RGB was at the mercy of his thin vents. Assok yelled with such force his voice nearly knocked The House of Paint over.

“ _ HELLO’EROSHURRBRE _ -oomf!”

Something flew into Assok’s mouth, sending him flying off of RGB’s shoulder and into Hero’s arms. The eight year old inspected her now silenced friend, discovering an empty glass bottle in his soft jaw. Meanwhile RGB whipped his screen in the direction where it came from, seeing his one eyed friend leaning out of the window.

“Haven’t you three ever heard of patience?” Madras asked dryly. “There’s no need to shout like an obnoxious advertisement.” She added with a glance at RGB.

“Hmph,” He planted his fists on his hips.

“H-hi, Madras,” Hero waved, wary of the merchant’s temper.

“Hiemadrass!”

Madras eyed Assok, feeling an agitated tear leak out of her infected eye.“If you make your little green friend promise to use his inside voice, then I’ll consider letting you all in.”

“Inside’voiss prom iz!” He covered his nose shyly before whispering, “Inside’voiss. Prom iz.”

“That’s better,” She nodded in approval and disappeared inside. As they waited for Madras to come to the door, Hero studied the empty vial the cyclops threw earlier. She found it unnaturally cool in her hand. Even more puzzling, the tiny label read “FREEZING FLUID”.

* * *

 

The woman in pink ascended the cherry wood ladder, panting as discreetly as she could. She didn’t have the energy to defy gravity and glide to the top, but oh how she wished she did. Sadly, she had to make do the old fashioned way, and wiped the sweat from her brow. Once at the desired height, she fingered through the pale yellow dreams.

“...Madras?” 

“Just a moment, RGB.” She called back. The cyclops ran her fingers through her flamingo pink hair, feeling her eye tear up more than usual. No, no this was not the time nor the place; she simply had to hang on until her friends left.

Her  _ customers _ , as she corrected her mind.

Lost in her thoughts, her left foot suddenly slipped from its rung. On the verge of panicking, she flung her hand out to grab the shelf, but gravity pulled her back too fast. With a strident cry, she fell from the ladder, expecting to land on the hard ground, but instead fell into RGB’s arms.

Madras blinked to regain her calm composure and purred, “Well, well, well...looks like a knight in shining armor came to my rescue.”

“Oh, well…” RGB turned his TV away, feeling his plastic casing grow warm like blushing cheeks. “I-it’s not like you to misstep, though…”

“Who said it was a misstep?” The woman hummed as she wrapped her arms around his absent neck. RGB’s screen made a sheepish grin as he made eye contact with Madras. Feeling bold, she pressed her forehead to his plastic casing and stared into his bright screen. From the eyes of outsiders, they looked like lovers staring deeply in each others eyes-if either of them had at least two eyes.

That was not what Madras was seeing. No, instead of staring at the very worst monster, she stared at her pale reflection in his screen. She also felt a thick tear run down her cheek like a drop of slippery syrup. Her complexion contrasted sharply with the polished complexion of her lover.

And she knew it would only get worse from here.

Madras pulled her head back. This caused RGB to flinch slightly in bafflement; usually,  _ he _ pulled back first. Now out of his semi-dreamy trance, he tried to comprehend the emotion in Madras’s peach pink eye, watching another yellow tear escape like crystallized honey.

“...so about the dreams…” He whispered hoarsely. Naturally afraid of dealing with such emotions, he changed the subject with the smoothness of a salesman.

“Right, right…” She nodded and weakly floated out of his arms. When her feet made contact with the ground, she grabbed the ladder to support herself. Leaning on it heavily, she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“...everything alright, Madras?”

The cyclops sighed, paused, and turned towards the stairs, keeping her back to RGB. “Get the dreams yourself,” she grumbled, “I...I’m not feeling well.”

She placed her foot on the first step, only to slip and crash on the cruel, hard floor.

She knew it wouldn’t stay so hard for long, either.

“M-Madras!” RGB ran to her side, helping her sit upright. He suddenly noticed a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, matching her running nose. “Are...are you sick?”

“I-it’s nothing serious…” She reassured before wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Although...an escort to my bedroom would be nice.”

“Well...that can be arranged.” RGB slipped his arms under her and hoisted her body up, holding her bridal style. He walked up the stairway, careful to make the ride as smooth as possible. On the final step, however, he stepped onto an unknown object, and naturally jumped in surprise.

“Hayn ow!!” Assok barked up at RGB, who nearly dropped the sickly Madras.

“Get out of my way, Assok! I don’t have time to dilly dally!”

“Cheezepoop!!!” The sock narrowed his button eyes at the man.

“Now, now, Assok…” Madras croaked. “You promised to use your inside voice, rememb-” She was interrupted by a shaky cough that shot a bitter taste into her mouth.

“Mad rass?”

“Madras? RGB?”

The monster, merchant, and sock looked up in the direction of the girl’s voice. Hero stared with wide eyes at Madras’s crippled figure in RGB’s arms.

“What’s wro-”

“RGB. Bedroom. Now.” Madras ordered flatly. The man hesitated but followed her commands and briskly walked down the hall to her bedroom, leaving Hero and Assok behind. He gently placed her on the soft mattress and tucked her under the crimson colored sheets. 

“Thank you…” She whispered, feeling her head sink into her pillow.

“You’re welcome.” He stood up and straightened his chartreuse and strawberry polkadot suit. Shoving his hands into his pockets awkwardly, he shuffled his punch and pear spat shoes. 

“Tell you what,” Madras rolled to her side. “Since I don’t feel like ringing up your purchases and you carried me here, then how about- _ cough, cough _ -you take your dreams and nightmares and we call it even…?”

“Wh-wh-what?” RGB stuttered, jerking his meek hands out of his pockets. “But-you-not that I’m ungrateful, but…”

“You’d rather give me fifty pints of paint?”

“No…” He cringed. “But...this isn’t like you at all!”

“I’m not feeling like my normal beautiful self today.”

“I can see that…” RGB leant over Madras’s figure. He could make out the stain of sweat saturating her pillow and hair. Noticing his stare, the woman sighed and turned over, showing her back to the monster.

“Just take your vials and leave, please.” She hissed.

The man rubbed the side of his TV, paused, and finally croaked, “...if you insist…” With a half-hearted shrug, he turned towards the door. Madras remained still, listening to his cheap shoes creak against the floorboards. She didn’t dare move until she heard the door close and his footsteps fade down the hall.

Once alone in silence, she sniffed. Madras rubbed her arm over her eye as well, feeling the plush fabric of her sweater soak up her half sick and half sad tears.

Soon they’d all be gone with their vials. Soon they’d be far away from her and her home. Soon they’d be back to what was left, if anything was left. But that’d be later than sooner. And that’d be much, much less painful in the grand scheme of things. 

With the faintest whimper, Madras tugged the blankets over her head in shame and shut her eye, with her body growing moist with perspiration.

* * *

 

“What? We’re leaving already?”

“Yes, Hero, now get Assok so we can be on our merry way.” RGB plucked his hat and cane off of the horns of the animal skull hanging by the front door.

“Assok heer!” The sentient sock chirped from Hero’s hoodie.

“Ah capital, now let’s get-”

“Didn’t you pay Madras?”

“She-er-insisted that this one’s on the house.”

“...’cause she’s not feeling well?”

The very worst monster paused. “...yes.” Just as he placed his hat on his TV head, Hero gently tugged at RGB’s other hand.

“Maybe we should stay.”

“W-what? Why?”

“To look after her while she’s sick!”

“Oh, well... that’s a sweet gesture, Hero, but I think Madras can take care of herself.” The man reached for the door knob of the front door.

“Are you sure?”

RGB froze just as his fingertips brushed against the cool metal.

“Yes, I’m very sure. Now let go of my sleeve.”

The girl, however, tightened her grip stubbornly. “Did you tell her good-bye and get well soon?”

“Er...n-no, actually…” The truth slipped clumsily through his speakers like a hesitant schoolboy’s stutter.

“What?!” The girl exclaimed. “You didn’t?!”

“Keep your voice down, Hero, you don’t want to wake Madras, now, do you?” RGB flung his hand away from Hero’s, freeing his sleeve from her grip. He reached for the knob with both of his hands, but the girl dashed in front of him, blocking the door.

“You’re not a very good boyfriend, are you?”

RGB took a step back, antenna flinching at her words. His multicolored mouth fluctuated, but no words came. While the monster was struck speechless, the girl planted her fists on her hips and glared up at him.

“I’m not leaving until you tell Madras good-bye and get well soon!”

“Hero, this really isn’t the time-”

“Not leefin’ tilu goodbie mad rass!” Assok barked as he leapt up to Hero’s head. His fabric lips bunched into a stubborn pout.

“Assok, not you, too...Look, we don’t have time to waste-”

The sock inhaled deeply…

“Wait nononoNO _ NO that won’t be necessary really! _ ” The man waved his hands in front of him while madly shaking his TV set. “You’d break down the entire establishment if you did that in here!!”

“And Madras probably wouldn’t like that, would she?” Hero added with a smirk.

“Wha...but...why, you…” RGB’s hands tightened into fists. Finally he flung his hands in the air with a huff, surrendering to the duo. “Alright, fine! I’ll go tell her good-bye and all that!”

“Yaaaay!” Assok cheered as Hero gave him a nod of approval. 

The monster stomped away a few steps, then said, “...since I’m going through all this trouble, why don’t you make yourself useful and fetch her a glass of water?”

“Okay!” Hero chirped and dashed down the stairs with Assok falling back into her hoodie. With a sigh, RGB rubbed his head and dragged his feet to Madras’s bedroom.

He did not notice how his shoes sank slightly in the ground and made faint tracks, as if the wooden floor was thick mud.

When he reached her door, he stared at his feet as he knocked.

“Madras? Are you awake?”

…

“I-I know you told me to leave, but our little Hero insisted that I say good-bye...and get well soon.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as he bashfully chuckled. “A bit cheesy, I know, but…”

…

“So...get well soon. And good-bye. I’ll be back. I promise.”

…

The silence was starting to have an affect on RGB. By now he should have at least received a snappy comment or sassy critique from her.

“Madras, are you even listening?”

…

“...I’m coming in.” He grabbed the door knob. The moment he squeezed his hand around the metal, he felt it ooze between his fingers like clay.

With a yelp RGB flung his hand away. Holding it in front of his face, he saw his cream colored gloves stained with the color of the knob.

“M-Madras?”

He didn’t wait for a response that would never come; without warning he shoved down the door with both hands, watching it fall down with a disgusting  _ SPLAT! _

The very worst monster nearly fell back in shock.

Paint drips decorated the walls of the bedroom, matching the melting furniture. The nightstand leaned to it’s side, ready to drop the pile of goop that was once the lamp. But the bed-oh, goodness!-was the worst. All four legs curled slightly under the bed’s weight while the blanket dripped off the sides into tiny puddles of wine red fluid. In the middle of the mattress was a human shaped lump, breathing heavily.

“MADRAS!!”

RGB ran for the bed and ripped off the blanket. Part of it stuck to Madras while the rest tore away, as if the blanket was made of rotten taffy. Dropping his share of the blanket, he hastily peeled the rest off of Madras’s sticky form.

“Madras, what in hell’s name is going on?!”

The cyclops responded by barely opening her eye, letting tears pour out like sour, melted caramel. She parted her lips to speak, but could manage no more than a hiss.

“Madras!!” RGB cupped her cheek and turned her face towards him. “Madras, what’s happening?!” 

_ “Well, shouting into my ear isn’t going to do us any good, you know.” _

Of course she’d say something like that, if she was well enough to speak. On the verge of panicking, he shook her shoulders, watching her weak head loll back and forth.

“Say something, Madras!  _ Madras!! _ ” He cried as drips of paint fell from the ceiling.

“...aaaaaaaaaAAAAAA _ AAAH RGB RGB!!! _ ”

The man whipped his head around as the voice grew closer. A second later Hero slid in front of the door, clumsily grabbing the door frame to keep her from slipping.

“RGB I-I turned on the water in the sink but the faucet came out with the water and the ceiling is dripping-”

“You mean the entire house is  _ melting? _ ”

Hero thought for a split second before nodding her head, nearly shaking out Assok.

“Howss mel-ting!”

Wasting no time to question the situation, RGB swiftly slid his arms under Madras and turned around. “Don’t just stand there! We have to leave  _ immediately!! _ ”

Hero and RGB ran down the hall, nearly slipping on the semi-solid floor. Several times a tall shelf collapsed in front of them into a sticky pile of slop, and they narrowly avoided being squished beneath them. When they weren’t dodging puddles of furniture, they were jumping over sloppy holes in the floor, opening to the lower floors.

“Hero, get the door!!”

The girl reached for the knob, but her hand only caught empty air where the knob once was. It was at her feet, staining her green Wellies with paint. Thinking quickly, the girl took a step back and rammed herself into the door. The girl landed with the door on the porch in a puddle of turquoise. When she looked up, however, her eyes widened; without the flimsy door, the door frame began to slowly sag down, like the closing mouth of a beast.

A familiar cane shoved the opening up and RGB came through, cringing as his broad shoulders brushed against the sides of the frame. Once past the doorway, he slipped his cane out and saw the opening flop close with a  dull squelch.

“Aah! Stairz melt-ing!”

RGB turned in the direction of Assok’s cry. True to his word, the floating steps also dripped and slowly sank lower, looking as if they’d fall from the sky at any moment.

“RGB c’mon!” Hero shouted and leaped for the first, slippery step.

“R-right!”

Tightening his grip on Madras, RGB jumped from the porch and felt his shoes sink into the surface. The step sank a few inches lower under his weight, threatening to send him and his lover down into the open space below. Panicking, the man quickly jumped across each step, catching up to the eight year old Hero. In his dash for safety, he didn’t even stop when he reached the solid, hard ground. The man didn’t stop his mad sprint until he was several yards away from the ledge and heard Hero shout from behind him.

“The House of Paint!!”

RGB whipped around to a chilling sight. Half of the stair steps were steadily sinking out of sight while the rest were gone, already too tired to resist gravity. But the House of Paint was the worst; the once humble home now resembled a sloppy, hovering blob of goop. Like the last snowball of winter melting in the palm of a lonely child’s hand, it dripped away in tear-like drops into a thin liquid destined to never be whole again. Shocked, RGB tightened his grip on Madras.

Hero turned around to him, and gasped, hands flying to her open mouth.

“M- _ Madras!!! _ ”

The man looked down at the woman in his arms, and froze in horror. 

One of Madras’s arms was draped over his arm, hand dangling out, where her pink manicure dripped from her fingertips like nail polish. Her cotton candy colored hair oozed off of her head with her sweat, staining his colorful sleeves. Drooping from the other end were her legs, filling her leggings with their gelatinous matter, appearing as if her legs lacked bones. No, they had already melted and mixed with her flesh.

RGB fell to his knees in slow motion, shivering, and still holding his lover. He brought his shaking hand to her rubbery neck to support her head. His fingers felt a gurgling vibration where he expected her steady pulse.

“M-Ma-M-Mad…” He stuttered, unable to utter anything else.

She panted hoarsely while squeezing her eye shut. Even through her tight eyelid, lemon yellow tears continued to leak out, dribbling off her chin. As snot flowed out of her runny nose, RGB gently shifted her to a sitting position, leaning against his chest, where she could hear his static hum heartbeat. 

After a pause, she hiccupped a cry. Then she sighed, relaxing. 

She did not take another breath.

“...Madras…?” RGB asked with a voice barely above a whisper. He brought his free hand to her face and cupped her cheek. The moment he made contact, her soft skin melted past his fingers. At the same time, her feathery eyelashes stained her skin like cheap mascara. 

“...n...N-no, no, no no no…” The monster repeated to himself while holding her closer. All of her colors oozed into liquid, taking her form and life with them. They saturated her and RGB’s clothes without restraint until the man found himself in a pinkish brown puddle of paint. Her sweater, leggings, and jewelry were the only things that survived. RGB held one of them in his hand; her beaded hair chain.

Out of the corner of his screen, he saw a green rainboot step closer, not daring to touch the puddle. He didn’t bother looking up to Hero’s face.

“R-R...RGB…?”

Now he looked up. Through his screen he saw the bubbling tears at the corners of her eyes as she held Assok, whimpering in her arms.

“Sh-She...she’s g-g…” Hero hiccuped. Unable to speak, she rubbed her sleeve against her eyes. While her eyes were buried in the thick fabric, she suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her. She lowered her arm to find her chin resting on RGB’s shoulder. Hero parted her lips to speak, but his trembling body discouraged her voice from coming out as anything other than a feeble whine. The girl flung her arm around the monster while hugging Assok even tighter and let her tears flow from her face.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” RGB murmured over and over again. His voice cracked like a broken stereo before the ink from his screen dripped out in a rainbow waterfall, oddly not staining Hero’s jacket. As he held Hero in his arms, his hand caressed Madras’s hair chain as if afraid it would melt away, too.

“Mah-madd rass...nott...nottennymoor…!” Assok cried, choking on the words no one else could say.

“Wh...why…” Hero moved away slightly. “W-Why did this happen? I-Is it my fault-?”

“...No...No, it’s not your fault…” RGB croaked.

“W-was it because she was sick?”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know why, Hero…I...I’m sorry...I-I’m so sorry-”

Hero looked up to his screen, staring into his projected frown. “Is-Is there anyway to bring her back? Like how she fixed me?”

RGB was quiet for eternity before he hiccuped and brought the girl close again. Hero could barely make out his “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,  _ I’m so sorry…! _ ” through his dribbling mouth and jerking shoulders. His hand clung onto Madras’s chain even tighter, feeling the beads imprint their shape into his gloves. 

The mistress of the house of paint, the merchant of dreams and nightmares, the pink haired lover, was gone. Melted into a sticky puddle. And RGB had lost his chance for one last fake smile, one last cheesy kiss, one last chance to say good-bye.

Her heart was no longer beating. Broken. And broke the very worst monster with it.


End file.
